It’s a late spring rainy morning, and as I’m navigating through The Grand Canal on a water bus, I’m feeling very excited about this 36-hour adventure. My energy is sparkling and I’m full of adrenaline; I don’t really know what’s awaiting me but something about this feeling and being there with my trustworthy camera is telling me I’m exactly where I need to be.
I get off the boat and, making my way towards Murano, I finally meet Samuel.
This is our second time seeing each other in person after meeting randomly at a hiking retreat last year, finding ourselves mutually inspired by our work.
So it finally happened. We managed to arrange a day trip to create something together.
As I walk through one of Venice’s oldest still operating Murano glass factories, I have the feeling that I am doing something forbidden, entering this studio as an outsider. The whimsical place, fire and glass dust in every corner, low beams of light, all add to the magical atmosphere.
And then there is me, with my little camera, both hungry to capture and dive deep into this new world, trying to catch even just a glimpse of something none of our other senses can.
Ivana: Can you tell me a bit about yourself and your story? How did you find yourself here?
Samuel: My name is Samuel, I’m from Trieste, and I moved to Venice because of a fascination that has been with me since I was a child. I’ve always worked with my hands, crafting, creating, but blown glass felt different. It felt like the peak of craftsmanship: ancient, technical, and alive.
Two years ago, I decided to follow that instinct. What began as curiosity became a path, and now, I’m officially a glassblower in Murano.
What inspired you to do this? What’s behind that decision?
There wasn’t a single moment. It was more like something slowly calling me. I’ve always believed that creativity isn’t just expression, it’s a way of existing. Glassblowing was the first thing that made all parts of me align: patience, precision, intuition, strength, vulnerability.
It felt less like choosing a profession and more like answering something I already carried within me.
What inspires you now, and what drives you in your craft?
I’m inspired by duality: fragility and strength, chaos and control, heat and grace.
Glass is technically one of the most challenging materials to work with, and that complexity motivates me. There’s a sentence glassmakers say: “You have to speak to the glass.” At first, it sounded like a cliché. But with time, it started to make sense. Now I speak and listen, and the material responds.
What do you feel while creating?
Alive. Focused. Present.
It’s the only moment when everything around me disappears and my mind clears completely.
There’s sweat, heat, mistakes, burns… and then, slowly, something elegant emerges.
Working with molten glass feels like a dialogue with fire, gravity, and breath.
And breath, especially, means everything to me: shaping molten material with the same air that keeps me alive… it feels intimate. Almost spiritual. As if the object inherits a part of me.
What have you learned about yourself throughout this journey? What parts of you has this passion revealed?
This craft has taught me patience and humility. Glass exposes everything: your hesitation, your confidence, your state of mind. There’s no pretending.
It also revealed a part of me that needs silence and ritual, a part that understands beauty not as perfection, but as a trace of effort, intention, and vulnerability.
What are you working on at the moment, and what does the future hold?
At the moment, I’m working on several projects, both with glass and beyond it. I’m developing a series of lamps, which will be part of an exhibition i’m currently planning. I’ve always been fascinated by lighting and how light can shape the atmosphere of a space and adapt to different moments: reading, writing, watching a film, or simply being present in a room. I’m also growing a lot on a technical level, so in a way, the future feels like a surprise even to myself.
Alongside this, I recently returned to making music. Over the past few months I’ve been working on an EP planned for release in 2026. It feels like another way of exploring mood, rhythm and emotion, in dialogue with my visual practice.